


The Witch Who Came to Visit

by Cinaed



Series: The Best of Carolina The Teenage Witch [20]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sabrina the Teenage Witch Fusion, Arguing, Family Drama, Gen, Magic, Spells & Enchantments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-06-24 08:40:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19720141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinaed/pseuds/Cinaed
Summary: In the first episode of season three, Carolina and Church learn what being grounded entails and Simmons and Grif have an unexpected guest.





	1. The Witch Who Came to Visit Part One

**Author's Note:**

> And it's the start to season three, which I'm really excited about. So many fun episodes in this season! It's going to be fun. :D
> 
> Thanks go out as always to Aryashi!

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m glad summer break is almost over,” Church grumbles. Like Carolina, he’s weighed down by school supply bags as Grey goes over the checklist she brought with her to the mall. “Being grounded _sucks_.”

Carolina grimaces in agreement. One of the bag’s handles keeps cutting off the circulation in her fingers and digging into her palm. She sets it down on a bench for a second and shakes out her hand. The mall is crowded and hot even with the air conditioning, but it’s still better than being trapped another day at the brownstone. Carolina’s only been outside to go to shul and to exercise since that night with Felix and Locus.

Grey looks amused. “Oh, James. You say that like you won’t still be grounded when school starts! Vanessa did say a century, remember?”

Church squints at her, looking worried. “She didn’t mean it,” he says.

“I think she meant it,” Carolina says. She tries not to remember how angry Kimball had been, explaining in minute detail all the horrible things that could’ve happened to them and how idiotic they’d been.

“Uh, if they’re still grounded, does that mean we can’t talk to them?” a cautious voice asks behind them.

Carolina turns, smiling. Niner, Wash, and Tucker grin back at her.

Grey giggles. “Well, if Vanessa was here, probably not. But I suppose five minutes won’t hurt. After that, we have to get back home.” She steps away to give them privacy, strolling over to one of the kiosks and trying on a pair of purple sunglasses.

“Dude, what did you guys _do_?” Tucker hisses as soon as she's out of earshot.

Carolina starts to answer, and then realizes for all the time that she and Church have spent staring at walls and doing homework, they didn’t actually think to come up with a lie about why they were grounded. Judging by the way Church’s eyes go wide behind his glasses and he shoots her a half-panicked look, he hasn’t thought about a reason either.

“Uh,” he says. He stretches out the word, like he'll come up with a lie before he runs out of breath. He doesn't. 

“Seriously,” Niner says. “I call the day after someone set off like a million fireworks at the high school, and all Ms. Kimball will tell me is that you two are grounded forever.” She crosses her arms against her chest and gives them both a look. “What did you guys do, and why wasn’t I invited?”

“Uh,” Church repeats.

Wash glances between them, curious too.

Carolina bites her lip. “Uh, we didn’t do the fireworks,” she says. “But we were at the school, and got in trouble.” It's two half-truths. 

Church nods. There's a flicker of relief in his eyes as he shrugs and adds, “Yeah, uh, Carolina left something from her mom in the school, and we sort of--”

“You broke in?” Tucker says, looking delighted.

“We would’ve been fine if it had gone according to plan!”

Niner stares at them, grinning from ear to ear. “Oh man, did the cops catch you? Do you have to do community service?” 

“We didn’t get arrested,” Church says, annoyed.

Niner looks a little disappointed. She opens her mouth, but doesn’t get anything out as a delighted voice bellows Church’s name and makes half of the crowd jump.

“ _CHURCH! CHURCH, YOU’RE HERE! CHURCH, I MISSED YOU!”_

“Hi, Caboose. No, wait--”

Bags go flying as Caboose tackles Church. They actually almost tumble to the ground, but Caboose drags Church up and off his feet into a hug. “Are you done with your time-out?” Caboose asks, beaming hopefully at him. He glances over and blinks. “Hi, Carolina!”

“Hi, Caboose,” Carolina says, amused.

“Can’t breathe,” Church wheezes. Still, when Caboose sets him down, Church doesn’t shove him away, just takes a deep breath and rolls his eyes. “No, we’re still grounded.”

Caboose’s face falls. “But--”

Tucker groans. “Ugh, great. Now I get to deal with him moping for the rest of the summer.”

“Sorry for getting grounded when it’s inconvenient for you,” Church snaps. “I’ll be sure to ask your advice next time, work out a better schedule.”

“Seriously, you should’ve invited me,” Niner says, nudging Carolina with an elbow. “I’d love to break into school!”

“Is that a new rite of passage for teenagers?” Grey asks, and Niner winces a little before she shrugs and says, “Uh, no, but it sounds fun.”

“It wasn’t,” Church says, with enough feeling that Caboose frowns at him.

Then Caboose turns his attention on Grey. His eyes go big, and his lower lip actually trembles. He stares at her. “I really can’t see Church again until school starts, Doctor Grey?” From the way he asks, a few weeks might as well be a million years.

Grey looks unswayed by the sad hopefulness radiating off Caboose. “Yes, Michael.”

Caboose sighs deeply. His shoulders sag with disappointment. “You got in very big trouble, Church,” he says solemnly.

Church snorts and exchanges a look with Carolina. “Got that right…”

* * *

Grif eyes the supply list Simmons is going over before his shopping trip. He twitches his tail in annoyance and resists the urge to shred the paper. “I still can’t believe you have to spend your own money on school supplies. That money could be going towards food!”

Simmons makes a face. “At least this year some of the parents are chipping in too.” Grif just stares at him, and he sighs. “Yeah, it sounded slightly less terrible in my head. And now I’m just mad about the state of our educational system…”

Grif snorts. “Yeah. Too bad Kimball vetoed Grey helping you with your experiments. You could’ve just magicked all this crap up.” He almost says that once he’s a witch again, he can show him how, as long as they’re careful about that charitable magic rule, but luckily he realizes how stupid that sounds. He might’ve convinced the stooge to let him stay with Simmons, but that could change any day of the week. He twitches his tail again, annoyed with himself now, and mutters, “Seriously. Could’ve bought like three pizzas instead.”

Simmons sighs. “Maybe Ms. Kimball will change her mind,” he says, though he doesn’t sound like he’s holding out much hope.

Doctor Grey’s phone call had been apologetic but blunt. “As fascinating as you are and despite how much I’m looking forward to seeing what a mortal doing magic entails, I’ve only just managed to get Vanessa to like me. I’m not willing to jeopardize that,” she had explained, and then giggled. “Well, at least until we’re no longer living under one roof as Carolina and James’s guardians! You’ll have to wait until then, I’m afraid.”

Grif just says, “Yeah, maybe. Weirder things have happened.”

Someone rings the doorbell.

Grif stares at the door. “Expecting company? Maybe Donut got tired of leaving messages.”

Simmons flushes faintly and glares at the reminder that he’s been dodging Donut’s calls since the speed dating disaster. When the doorbell rings again, he sets his list aside and gets up to answer it.

Grif jumps down to follow him, landing a little clumsily with the stupid cast still on his front leg. He represses a hiss of frustration. Apparently familiars don’t instantly heal from injuries, and stupid Felix tossing him had fractured a bone in his paw. The trip to the mortal vet had been a major hassle.

He trails after Simmons, both curious and a little nervous. He’s ninety-nine percent sure that the stooge and the Council is too distracted with the whole fallout of Felix and Locus trying to blow up Massachusetts to change their minds about taking him back to the Other Realm, but there’s that niggling one percent that has his fur bristling.

When Simmons opens the door, they both blink at a stranger.

A stranger who looks weirdly familiar, though Grif knows he’s never seen the guy before. He’s tall, with silver at his temples, and bright green eyes, and he’s studying Simmons with a weird intensity that means he’s either a door-to-door salesman or a missionary. With the nice suit he’s wearing, it could go either way.

“Mr. Richard Simmons,” the man says in a thick drawl, “I don’t think you understand the full implications of what you are trying to achieve.” He sweeps inside like he’s been invited, and both Simmons and Grif have to step hastily sideways to avoid a collision.

“Uh, excuse me?” Simmons says, blinking. His surprise begins to give way to confused irritation. “I didn’t invi--”

The man’s green eyes flick down to Grif, and Grif’s heart stops when he interrupts Simmons to add, “I suppose Dexter hasn’t bothered to enlighten you.”

Simmons slams the door shut. He half-leans against it, like his legs are a little unsteady. Grif can’t blame him; he knows all of his fur is bristling. “Uh,” Simmons says. His gaze darts between Grif and the man. He visibly swallows. “We don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Grif, knowing it’s a lost cause, still gives him a long look and a pointed, “Meow.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Simmons corrects himself. “And you, um, didn’t-- didn’t introduce yourself, so I think--”

The man waves a hand and Grif almost lunges before he realizes that the man isn’t doing a spell, just dismissing Simmons’ words. There’s a trace of impatience in the man’s voice when he says, “Must we go through the whole song and dance and waste each other’s time? But I suppose if we’ll be working together, I should introduce myself.”

Simmons stares. “Working together?”

“Of course." The man offers them a sharp smile. “My name is Dr. Leonard Church.”

Realization dawns. Now Grif knows why the man looks familiar. Grif has seen those same eyes in two much younger faces recently. He groans. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Leonard Church gives him a cool look. "Hardly. This is a serious matter. If the inspector had been at all competent you two would have been caught a long time ago.” He smiles again, a look of such self-satisfaction that Grif hates him already, even before he says, “I can make that much less likely.”

He holds up a hand. This time Grif can feel the magic build. A blue glow spreads from Leonard’s hand, rolling across the floor and up the walls like a magical wave. Within the wave are flashes of symbols and numbers, a delicate pattern of spellwork that distracts Simmons from his shock, judging by the way his eyes widen.

Grif can feel the spell settle into place. He might not know a lot about most complicated spells, but he can tell this is a clever and tricky one. He licks the tip of his nose and says, grudgingly impressed, “Wards, right? What do they do, exactly?” 

“If anyone attempts to scry on the apartment, they will see Richard either asleep or watching television,” Leonard explains. “Consider it a gesture of good faith.”

“Oh,” Simmons says. Grif takes one look at his awestruck expression and knows that they’re doomed. “How long will the wards last? Does the fake image change every time, or does the spell react to different people trying to scry? Did you take Grif into account? He’ll need to move around as well, or--”

“I’ve got a question,” Grif says. He might be impressed by the spellwork, but he also doesn’t trust this guy as far as he can throw him. He remembers what Church said about him. He prowls forward, winding himself around Simmons’ feet. “How did you even figure out Simmons knows I’m a witch?”

Leonard pauses. “I was curious about the true circumstances around Felix's death and thought I would learn more about the familiar who convinced Locus to turn against him.” He raises an eyebrow. “Imagine my surprise when I discovered that you were living with a mortal.”

He turns his attention on Simmons, whose awestruck look falters a little beneath that intense gaze. “The council inspector assigned to your case made note of how _surprisingly_ agreeable you were. Hardly even needed convincing to let a strange man with a ridiculous cover story about a so called 'cat inspection' enter your home.”

“I could’ve just been gullible,” Simmons offers weakly.

Grif snorts.

Leonard ignores the comment. “That was surprising, but what was absolutely astonishing was the fact that apparently you can do magic.” He leans forward, and his eyes blaze in a way that makes Grif nervous. No good can come from that expression. “Consider the possibilities. Consider what it means for mortals and witches alike.”

Simmons stares at Leonard. Hope slowly blooms in his face. He says slowly, “It sounds like you want to help me. Not mind-wipe me, or yell at me for breaking Council law, but, uh, actually help me do more magic.”

“Of course I do.”

Grif glances between Leonard and Simmons. His ears flatten against his head. He doesn’t like this at all. It’s not that he doesn’t want Simmons to learn magic, but he can’t figure out Leonard’s angle here. Grif doesn’t like mysteries, especially ones that involve Simmons risking the Council’s wrath.

He tries to get Simmons’ attention, but it’s like he’s suddenly invisible. Simmons beams at Leonard and says, “Oh, I-- that’s great, that’s really great, let me-- let me get my notes? I’ve been-- yeah.”

Grif swallows down a growl. It was time to call in some back-up.

* * *

Carolina knows that being grounded is supposed to be a punishment and that she and Church have earned it, but she’s still chafing under all the restrictions. Only being allowed outside for exercise and to shul means that she can’t escape Grey and Kimball telling her to study her spellbook or Church’s constant whining.

Church groans. “Who knew you could get bored of watching TV?”

Carolina’s about to remind him that he’s lucky TV is allowed, since video games aren’t, when the phone rings. She sighs. It’s probably Kimball, calling to check in on them since she and Grey both work today. She goes to answer it.

“Hello,” she says, trying to sound cheerful.

There’s silence, and then a muffled but familiar voice saying, “Please be the right number. Stupid paw, stupid cast-- is this Carolina?”

Carolina frowns. “Uh, yeah? Is this Grif?”

“The one and only,” Grif says sourly. “So I need you and Church to get over here and deal with your dad.”

Carolina almost drops the phone. She has to have misheard Grif. Still, just the mention of her dad, who hasn’t spoken to her since he argued with everyone about Church, makes her throat go tight and her stomach roil. From the corner of her eye, she sees Church straighten from his slouch and frown at her. All she gets out is a faint, “...What?”

“Your dad is here, making weird promises to Simmons,” Grif says.

Now it’s anger that has Carolina by the throat. She chokes out, “That’s not funny, Grif.”

Grif sounds exasperated. “Who’s joking? Do you know how hard it is to dial with stupid claws? I’m telling you, your dad is in our living room, promising to teach Simmons magic.”

“He isn’t--”

“Salt and pepper hair, thick accent, greenest eyes ever, and stands like he’s got a rod up his-- stands like a freaking telephone pole. Sound familiar?”

Carolina can’t breathe. The idea that her father would show up after months of silence, in town, and still not bother to let her know through a stupid painting is like a slap. She takes one breath, and then another, but she can't get enough air to say anything.

Church snatches the phone from her. “What’s going on?” he demands. Carolina watches his face contort through several emotions at once before settling on disbelief. “Why would he-- never mind. We’ll, uh, be there soon.” When he drops the phone, he looks at Carolina. Whatever expression is on her face as she tries to get herself under control chases the disbelief from his face. He looks anxious.

“Hey, uh," he says, and reaches out tentatively to pat her shoulder. “Please breathe?”

Carolina grits her teeth. Anger and hurt roil her stomach, shorten her breath even as she struggles to suck in air. She clings to the anger. It’s easier to deal with than the hurt. Her father didn’t reach out to her for any holidays, for her mom’s birthday, for _anything_ , and now he’s apparently in town and visiting Mr. Simmons face to face. Carolina’s looked at the talking portrait spell. It’s so simple that she could probably do it, and her dad couldn’t even be bothered to do that.

“I have to go there. I have to--”

“Yeah, we’ll go,” Church says, still patting her shoulder. She pretends not to notice the way he’s watching her like he’s worried she’s going to explode.

The anger grows until she’s shaking from it. She keeps thinking about all the times he could’ve reached out and didn’t, about how often she’s thought about using the portrait spell herself to talk to him and talked herself out of it.

When they get to Simmons’ door, Church eyes her nervously and says, “I’ll go in, you wait out--”

Carolina slams a fist against the door and yells, “Mr. Simmons!”

Church grimaces. “Uh, Carolina--”

She tries the door knob. It’s locked. “I’m going inside,” she growls. The second time she tries, her hand glows blue and the door opens without any resistance. She starts to storm inside, and whirls to glare at Church when he grabs her arm. “ _What?_ ”

“Just wait a second,” Church says. “The rule--” He falters at the look on her face.

She shakes off his hand and storms inside, just in time to hear a familiar voice say hurriedly, “By Council decree, separate shall we be, until her eighteenth fall, so whenever she is near, let me see nothing at all.”

“...Well, that was a spell,” Church mutters behind her.

Carolina spots her father just in time to watch a magical blue sheen fade from his eyes, leaving them an unsettling white.

Shock comes first. It’s one thing to have Grif describe him, and it’s another to see him and be in the same room as her dad. Relief follows next. She stares at him, studying every line on his face, the silver in his hair, the unsteady rise and fall of his shoulders as he takes in a deep breath. The anger returns. She clings to it again as she takes a shaky step towards him. She wants to touch him and make sure he’s real. She wants to hit him. She wants to shake him and demand answers about why he didn’t send messages. Hasn’t he missed her as much as she’s missed him?

What comes out of her mouth, hoarse and shaky, is, “You’re really here.”

His expression changes when she speaks. He turns his head towards her. She can see that his strange, pale eyes are staring in her direction but not quite meeting her gaze.

“Carolina.”

Tears sting Carolina’s eyes at the sound of her name. She almost misses the way he makes a small movement and knocks his shin against the coffee table. He winces and stops moving. His brow creases as he asks, “What are you doing here?”

“Yeah, actually, that’s _our_ question,” Church says sourly. Carolina didn’t notice him follow her inside, but now she’s aware of him at her shoulder, tension radiating off him as he scowls and crosses his arms against his chest.

Carolina thought that her father would scowl at the sound of Church’s voice, but instead he looks slightly puzzled. His head cocks to the side, and he frowns in Church’s direction. “Excuse me?”

Church stares back before his eyes widen and a half-smirk, half-grimace twists his mouth. His voice takes on a mocking imitation of his old accent. He scoffs, “What? Do you not recognize your own work?”

As her father’s eyes narrow, Simmons says, surprised, “Oh, Carolina and Church are here too?” When Carolina drags her attention away from her father and Church, she sees Simmons standing in the kitchen doorway with a glass in each hand. He smiles at her with barely repressed excitement, apparently oblivious to the tension in the room. “Carolina! Did your dad tell you how he’s going to help me with my magic experiments? We were just about to look at my notebook.”

Church snorts. “Yeah, okay, sure. That’s what Grif _said_ , but--”

Her father interjects curtly, “Richard, if you would, I’d like to speak to my...children, alone. For a moment.” Carolina wonders if the hitch and hesitation before the word children is as obvious to Simmons as it is to her.

Simmons’ smile fades a little, like he’s beginning to notice something’s off. He blinks at them. “Uh, okay?” He starts to back up and almost trips over Grif. Water splashes over the rim of both glasses, missing Grif by inches and earning a startled noise. “Oh, sorry.”

Grif stares meaningfully at Church and Carolina before he disappears back into the kitchen with Simmons, hobbling a little from a bright orange cast on his leg.

As soon as the door shuts, Carolina takes another step forward. She still wants to grab her father and shake him. “You’re here,” she half-repeats, feeling stupid, but grasping and flailing around for the right words. “Why?”

“Yeah, I’m curious too. And cut the crap about helping Simmons,” Church says. “You’re gonna break his heart, lying about magic to him.”

Her father’s expression darkens.

He’s not going to answer her question, Carolina realizes. He and Church are going to start arguing. It’s like she’s not even here. Is she that unimportant? Is this what happened for the past ten months, her father just kept getting distracted? Her stomach clenches. She snaps, “ _Dad_. What are you doing here?”

Her father clears his throat. His hand raises halfway to his face before it drops back to his side. “Carolina...” He stops. She can’t read his expression; she wishes he was easy to read as Church. His next words come slowly. “If the mortal intends to continue with his magic experiments, he’ll need supplies and more knowledge than a photocopied spellbook can offer. I can provide both.” His lips tighten. “Well, when I’m not blind. It was the only loophole I could think of, to keep the Council off our backs.”

Church shakes his head. “Come on! Are you trying to get on Carolina’s good side, pretending that you care about mortals? You’re not gonna help him! You can’t talk about loopholes in one breath and then about biting your thumb at the Council in another! The Council will probably look the other way if a witch parent visits his kid a little early, but if they find out you’re helping a mortal do magic--”

Her father interrupts, sounding impatient. He gestures broadly. “That’s all true, but surely _you_ can see my reasoning, the cost benefit analysis I made, the _potential_ here.”

Church takes a deep breath and opens his mouth. He doesn’t say anything. Instead the air escapes him in a hard exhale. He stares at her father, searching his features like he’s trying to find an answer there. His own expression changes slowly, frustration and confusion and then shock twisting his face.

As the silence stretches, the crease in her father’s forehead deepens. His lips compress into a thin, unsmiling line. “You understand,” he says. If Carolina didn’t know better, she’d think that her father sounds slightly uncertain.

Church keeps staring.

Impatience fills Carolina. Why is Church so stuck on the helping Simmons with magic thing? It doesn’t matter. She steps forward, and at the sound, her father’s blind gaze shifts towards her. “Could you have done this the whole time?” she asks. She waves at his white eyes and feels stupid, because of course he can’t see the gesture. “The blindness spell, so you could visit in person?”

The questions hurt, and she regrets them the second they’re out of her mouth.

Her father hesitates. “I-- there’s always a risk with attempting loopholes. I didn’t know if it would be enough insurance for the Council to overlook my visiting you. It’s complicated--”

Carolina cuts him off. “It’s _complicated_?” A bitter laugh escapes her. “More or less complicated than the portrait spell? The one you used twice? That one didn’t need a loophole to use, right?” She feels a vicious satisfaction at the way her father’s face twitches like she’s scored a hit. “Maybe ten months is nothing when you live for centuries, but I--” _Missed you. Needed you._ She chokes on the words.

“Carolina.” Her father makes another aborted movement, hitting his shin against the coffee table again. He hisses in pain, jerking back and bumping into the couch. “Let me try to explain.”

Carolina’s still drowning in her hurt, but now something like panic grips her. She doesn’t want to hear an excuse. What could be a good enough reason to avoid her for ten months, when he knows she’s missing him and her mom? She doesn’t want to know why he didn’t care enough to even talk to her. It’ll just make things worse.

The room seems too small, suddenly. She takes a step back, and then another, until her back hits the door. “Forget it. I just-- I’m leaving.”

“Carolina--”

She gets the door open and runs.

* * *

“Grif!” Simmons whispers, scandalized when Grif immediately crouches at the door and puts his ear to the wood. “Don’t eavesdrop!”

“Seriously?” Grif mutters. “Chill out. Don’t you want to know why he’s actually here?”

Simmons frowns down at him. Some of the euphoria he’s been feeling since Doctor Church announced he was here to help him with his experiments fades. “What do you mean? He’s going to teach me magic.”

“Uh huh, but what’s in it for him?” Before Simmons can answer, Grif adds, “Never mind, shut up, I want to hear this.”

Grif makes a startled noise as Simmons picks him up. He squirms in Simmons’ arms, his cast almost hitting Simmons in the face before Grif twists in his grasp to give Simmons a disbelieving look. “Seriously?”

Simmons scowls. “Give them some privacy!”

“Come on, aren’t you curious?”

“No,” Simmons lies. But there’s a difference between eavesdropping on the stooge and the Church family. And besides, he’s pretty sure Doctor Church is about to yell at his children for the Felix and Locus thing, and he doesn’t want to hear it.

Grif groans.

There’s a few minutes of muffled voices rising and falling, and then the sudden slam of the door.

“Uh,” Simmons says. He exchanges a look with Grif, who blinks at him. “Should we…?”

When he cautiously reenters the living room, Doctor Church is alone. The witch is blinking hard, and for a second it almost looks like his eyes are strange and filmed over with white. When Simmons coughs, Doctor Church twitches and glances at him, his eyes a normal green behind his glasses.

Simmons must have been seeing things. He smiles awkwardly. “Um, Carolina and Church left?” He regrets the obvious question, especially when it makes a muscle jump in Doctor Church’s cheek.

“Yes.”

Simmons braces himself for Doctor Church to yell at him as well for allowing his children to put themselves into harm’s way, but instead the witch lets out a slow breath and sits down on the couch, perched stiffly at the edge of it. He taps his fingers against his knee.

“How did they know I was here?”

“I called,” Grif drawls. He adds in a soft mutter, so low that it probably only reaches Simmons’ ears, “Thanks for nothing, kids.”

Doctor Church frowns.

“It’s a small world, right?” Simmons says quickly, laughing nervously. “If Church hadn’t left his spellbook at school, I never would have made the progress I have! Speaking of, um, progress, do you want to look at my notebook? I wrote down all my experiments and, uh, well, you probably want to see my basic knowledge, right?”

Doctor Church looks up. There’s a deep crease in his forehead, and his jaw is tight. For a moment he seems to just stare through Simmons. Then he blinks, his eyes focusing and his expression clearing. He gives a small nod. “I see. Yes, let’s get to work.”

Simmons goes to fetch his notebook. He has to wipe his hands on his pants a couple times first, sweating with nerves. What if Doctor Church takes a look at his notes and decides that he’s an idiot? Or that the physical backlash is too much of a risk to continue?

Doctor Church accepts the book with another nod, and then pauses. He glances between Grif and Simmons, his expression unreadable. “And your...interactions with my daughter were--”

Simmons flushes, remembering Doctor Grey and Ms. Kimball’s questioning and the way they’d both looked at him when they realized he’d known about the Felix and Locus situation for months. And most fathers would have questions about why a grown man would have their teenage daughter's phone number.... Oh god, Doctor Church was going to turn him into a frog if he got the wrong idea of their relationship. Or worse, refuse to help him with his experiments.

Simmons says, a little more loudly than he intends, "Entirely aboveboard, sir!”

“Sir?” Grif repeats in disbelief.

Doctor Church stares at Simmons again. This time it’s a narrow-eyed focus, the long stare piercing through Simmons as he tries not to squirm. “...See it remains that way.”

* * *

Carolina runs. She runs, but her chest feels too tight. She can’t get the right momentum, each step away from her father a little too forceful. The impact radiates up her legs. Sarge would be furious with her. She’s moving like an idiot. Her knees start hurting before she’s even outside.

She stops, leaning against a parking lot sign. Each ragged breath is like swallowing glass. Her eyes burn. She presses her fists against her eyes, trying to get herself under control so she can keep moving.

She flinches at the sound of a voice, even if it’s just Church.

“P-please,” he huffs and puffs. When she looks at him, he’s doubled over, gasping for air. He lifts his head a little, giving her a pleading stare. He hasn’t run that far, but sweat’s already trickling down his cheeks. “Stop...running….”

A shaky laugh escapes her, despite everything. “You really need to exercise.”

Church glares halfheartedly at her.

The amusement’s brief, swallowed up by misery. She swallows. “He….”

“Yeah,” Church says. He forces himself upright, still gasping for air like he’s run miles instead of a few feet. He bites his lip. His shoulders hunch. He glances over his shoulder and stares at the apartment building. He says, sounding lost, “I don't know what he's thinking….”

Carolina says, the words so bitter she can taste them on her tongue, “Me neither.”

Church looks back at her. There’s something desperate in his face now, a panic that silences Carolina. “No, you don’t understand. _I don’t know what he’s thinking_.” His voice wavers. He shakes his head. The words come slowly at first, and then faster, a jumbled rush. “I-- I have so many of his memories even now. I thought I knew how he thought, what he's been doing, but I don’t. He’s-- I don't know him at all if he's willing to teach Simmons magic.”

He laughs, and there’s a tinge of hysteria to the sound. “And then he looks at me like I should get it! Like I’ve obviously done the same cost analysis and come to the same stupid conclusions, and I didn’t, I haven’t, I-- he--” He shrugs, a violent motion of his shoulders. “I don’t know what he’s thinking,” he repeats, and this time he sounds frightened. “It’s like he’s a total stranger. Like we’re just...two different people.”

Carolina doesn’t understand the fear in his voice. She doesn’t understand anything about today, except that her father could have visited her at any time in the last few months and made everything slightly less terrible and had chosen not to. She clings to her anger so that she doesn’t cry. “You thought you knew how he thinks?” she snaps. “Then you can explain why he didn’t reach out, right?” A horrible thought strikes her, hard as a blow to the gut. “How long did it take you to think of the blindness loophole? Did you come up with it while we’re trying to figure out how to talk to my mom? I could’ve-- if I’d known, I could’ve talked to him myself months ago or, or--”

Church looks startled. He rocks back on his heels. “I didn’t--”

“You could’ve just said it wouldn’t work to talk to my mom! That she’d get turned into wax if I tried! We were already doing the mirror spell, I would’ve listened--”

“I didn’t think of it!” Church shouts.

Carolina can’t tell if he’s telling the truth. She grits her teeth. “Right,” she says flatly. She can’t look at him or be near Simmons’ apartment anymore. She closes her eyes and thinks herself invisible. By Church’s startled breath, she’s managed it.

“Carolina, hey, wait--”

She breathes into her own hands, concentrates, and runs again. This time when Church shouts after her, she ignores him. She runs until the roaring wind drowns out her thoughts, and then she runs some more.


	2. The Witch Who Came to Visit Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, confession, I miscalculated what needed to happen in the second episode and Aryashi and I realized halfway through that this should've been part of the first episode. Whoops! Just pretend The Witch Who Came to Visit was always intended as a two-part episode, please! ;)
> 
> Thanks again to Aryashi for looking this over for me!
> 
> Also, please enjoy this [amazing art](https://zaneartz.tumblr.com/post/186210149589/inspired-by-cinaeds-fic-series-carolina-the) by zanezell155! It's amazing. :D I love it so much!

It’s too hot to stand outside in the heat, so Vanessa is waiting in the library foyer for Grey to arrive. Usually she’ll take the bus, but today their schedules aligned. Now Vanessa just has to deal with Grey’s wild driving.

When Grey arrives, Vanessa doesn’t even have her seatbelt on before Grey pulls out of the parking lot with a screech of tires and the faint smell of burning rubber. Grey drums her bright lilac nails against the steering wheel and says, smiling sideways at Vanessa, “Now, don’t get mad--”

Vanessa feels her blood pressure jump. Annoyance and frustration surge at the conjoling way Grey says that, like telling her not to be angry won’t do the exact opposite. She sets her jaw. “What did James and Carolina do?”

“They’re not answering the phone,” Grey says. “It could be nothing, of course, but I did call twice within an hour….” The stoplight ahead of them shifts from green to yellow, until a flick of Grey’s finger turns it back to green just long enough for her to speed through the intersection.

“I’m going to make it two centuries,” Vanessa snaps.

Grey laughs again. “That will be hard to enforce considering we’re only their guardians for another fifteen months….”

“Two centuries,” Vanessa repeats grimly.

When they pull up to the house, Church is out on the front steps, fumbling with his keys.

“Oh, James!” Grey calls cheerfully as Vanessa gets out of the car and takes a few angry strides towards the house. Her voice is at odds with her dangerous smile. “We have a few questions for you.”

Church does a full body flinch. He gives up on opening the front door. The keys dangle uselessly in his white-knuckled grip. When he turns, his expression is what Vanessa was expecting: half-defensive, half-guilty. “It wasn’t my fault!”

Vanessa crosses her arms and says, “Being grounded is simple. No video games, no leaving the house without our permission, and you always answer the phone when both Grey and I are at work. So right now you’ve broken two out of three. If you were at Tucker or Caboose’s--”

“I wish,” Church mutters under his breath. “Video games sound great.”

“Is Carolina here? Did she sneak out too?”

Church’s shoulders sag. To Vanessa’s surprise, worry clouds his face. “I think she’s in her room. I hope she is-- I--” He runs a distracted hand through his hair, sending strands everywhere. “Uh. So. This wasn’t our fault. Seriously. Blame Leonard.”

“Leonard?” Vanessa echoes. Her blood pressure spikes again. She stares up at the house. She’s spent ten months watching Carolina fail to conceal her misery over Leonard’s continued silence. She can’t imagine what he’s done now. “Explain.”

“He’s here,” Church says. He winces. “Well, not _here_ here, he’s, uh, he’s at Simmons’ and-- he's, it's, yeah. Uh.” He shrugs, an abrupt movement of his shoulders and runs another hand through his hair. He adds with an intense, unexpected bitterness, “You should ask him what he's doing because I don't have a clue.”

“Well, this sounds like a conversation we should have inside,” Grey says before Vanessa can even begin to react. She places a hand on both Church and Vanessa’s shoulders, nods at the door so that it opens on its own, and steers them both into the house.

As soon as the door closes behind them, Church squirms away from Grey. He starts to fold his arms against his chest and then jams his hands into his pockets instead, shoulders hunched.

“Where’s Carolina?” Vanessa asks. "You think she's upstairs?" 

“I don’t know,” Church says. An emotion flits across his face too fast for Vanessa to decipher, but his entire body language screams discomfort. His eyes slide away from theirs. “She, uh, took off after yelling at Leonard. Didn’t exactly like that he’s decided to show up just to help Simmons with magic.”

“He wants to _what_?”

Church huffs out a breath that’s too harsh to be a laugh. “Yeah. That’s kind of what I said.”

Vanessa and Grey exchange a look. Grey looks just as startled as Vanessa feels. After a second, her eyes narrow. There’s curiosity in Grey’s expression, but concern too. She knows as well as Vanessa does what will happen if anyone discovers how Leonard is disregarding multiple Council laws. “That’s very interesting,” Grey says slowly. “I wonder what he’s up to.”

“Ask him,” Church says. “He said something about cost-benefit analysis and--” He shrugs again.

“Oh, we will,” Vanessa says. She raises her voice. “Leonard Church, Leonard Church, _Leonard Church_!”

A second later, the man himself stands in front of them. For a second Leonard’s green eyes are wide with surprise. Then his expression turns outraged. He glances between Grey and Vanessa. “Excuse me,” he says coldly. Then he spies Church. His eyes narrow to slits.

Church glares back. For a second they stare at each other, dislike radiating from both of them. Then Church takes a slow step towards the stairs. He doesn’t take his eyes off Leonard, like he thinks Leonard will do something the instant Church lowers his guard. “Yeah, I’m out. Have fun explaining the cost-benefit crap, Leonard.” Church spits out the name, his lip curling, and then retreats up the stairs.

Leonard stares after him. He looks infuriated by Church's continued existence. He only looks back at Grey and Vanessa when Grey taps a finger against her lips and says, “Not even a note to tell us you're in town, Leonard? I'm hurt.”

“I was under the impression you both wished to avoid my...machinations.” Leonard offers them a thin-lipped, humorless smile. “As you last described it.”

Vanessa swallows against irritation. “Oh, I’d love to avoid your schemes and you personally,” she says flatly. “I can’t say that Carolina feels the same.” She’s gratified to see a slight twitch in Leonard’s cheek at his daughter’s name. “ _Ten months_ , Leonard. Ten months of her glancing at the portraits on the wall or getting sad around the holidays. And now you're here, and you're mixed up in some dangerous sh--”

"What _are_ you thinking?" Grey asks, fixing Leonard with a sharp look.

“How much did--” Leonard gestures towards the stairs. “--tell you?”

“Oh, enough,” Vanessa says sarcastically. “You’re going to teach a mortal magic?”

Leonard has the audacity to look frustrated. “Do neither of you see the potential?”

“Oh, yes,” Grey says, though her grin doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Mortals using magic is _fascinating_. And if I wasn’t currently responsible for the safety and well-being of your daughter, I would risk a few years of the Council’s displeasure to do a few experiments, but as it stands--”

Vanessa interrupts. “Grey and I are your daughter’s guardians. If you get yourself arrested and turned into a familiar for a century, we’ll be the ones dealing with the fallout.”

“And you two are doing _so_ well as her guardians,” Leonard says tersely. “Why does Dexter Grif, a convicted familiar, have her phone number?”

Vanessa almost laughs at the way he says it, as though Dexter Grif is a genuine threat. He watched the same trial she did. He knows that witch isn’t a threat to anyone, or a particularly bad influence, except in showcasing the Council’s cruelty. Besides, Dexter Grif had agreed to risk his own life and lie to the Council in order to keep Carolina and Church safe. She folds her arms against her chest. “You and I both know he was wrongly charged, and that is more than beside the point.”

Leonard looks down his nose at her. “The _point_ is that I don’t like the company my daughter is keeping.” From the edge in his voice, it’s clear he’s not talking about just Grif, though he doesn’t glance towards the stairs.

“I see,” says Grey. She gives a theatrical sigh and adds with blatantly insincere dismay that has Vanessa’s lips twitching in amusement despite her anger, “Well, that’s unfortunate! But I’m afraid that your opinion is coming a little too late to matter. Maybe if you’d spoken to either of us or Carolina in the last ten months--”

“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” Leonard says coldly. Then he winces, his hand rising towards his glasses a second before a blue sheen of magic ripples across his eyes and leeches the color from them.

The front door opens. Carolina flickers into sight, dropping the invisibility spell she’s apparently been using. Her face is flushed, her shoulders heaving from her ragged breathing, her hair plastered to her scalp with sweat, but it’s her red-rimmed eyes and the way her expression twists when she sees her father that Vanessa notices the most.

Carolina pauses for a second, just long enough to flinch, before she bolts for the stairs.

Leonard turns at the sound of her foot hitting the bottom step. For the first time since Vanessa summoned him, she watches an emotion that isn’t anger, frustration, or arrogance fill his face. “Carolina,” he says. He reaches out, a small, aborted movement, and then drops his hand to the side when Carolina ignores him, stomping up the stairs. There’s a few moments of silence, which even Grey seems reluctant to break, but then the blind sheen fades from Leonard’s eyes.

He gazes towards the stairs, though there’s no sign of Carolina. He says slowly, “I know I haven’t been...present, but how is she....?”

Vanessa and Grey exchange a look. “She’s doing well in school,” Vanessa says. “She’s made a few friends. She also joined the track team. They made it to state last year.”

“Yes, she’s settled quite nicely into high school. However, she’s not quite as enthusiastic about her magical education as we’d like,” Grey adds. She pauses and tilts her head. Vanessa knows she’s about to say something cutting even before Grey says brightly, “Though James did discover a spell she actually enjoys. She’s been running around the local park faster than a car for the past few weeks!”

The naked vulnerability disappears from Leonard’s face at the mention of Church. He looks away from the stairs. “So he’s been...helpful.” There’s a strange undercurrent to his voice, like he’s annoyed and relieved and something else entirely.

“Extremely!” Grey chirps.

“Helped with the holidays too,” Vanessa says. She feels an old pang of guilt, remembering how she would have gone through Yom Kippur and Rosh Hasanah oblivious to Carolina’s misery. Instead Church had explained the holidays to her and Grey and helped them make those days a little less awful. 

“I see,” Leonard says. His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t say anything else.

Grey waits for a moment, and then says, “So, since the Council hasn’t come calling, I think it’s safe to say your loophole worked! What _was_ the loophole, exactly?”

“The Council rule says I cannot see her until her eighteenth birthday. So I ensured that I won’t be able to see her whenever she comes into the room.”

Grey looks delighted. “Did you pick up a law degree while I wasn’t looking, Leonard? I’m impressed!” There’s a thin edge of sarcasm to her voice, and she doesn’t let him speak before she adds, “Well, we’re glad that the Council accepted your blindness loophole, if just for Carolina’s sake.”

Leonard gives a small, humorless smile at that. “As am I.”

“And of course, that means we’ll expect you for dinner later in the week! How does Thursday sound?”

“Excuse me?” Leonard says blankly.

Vanessa tries not to stare at Grey in surprise.

Understanding dawns when Grey keeps talking, her voice bright and her sharp smile ruthless. “You’ll be in the neighborhood, after all! Well, perhaps not the neighborhood, but certainly around! Naturally you’ll want to spend time with Carolina.”

Leonard blinks at her. “I--”

Vanessa leans forward and gives him a smile of her own. “If the next syllable out of your mouth isn’t a ‘yes’ I will turn you into a trout and gut you myself.”

Grey laughs. “Well, that’s quite an image! And we probably wouldn’t be that violent, if just because Carolina wouldn't like it. But rest assured, Leonard, I wasn’t really asking a question, other than to clarify what night would work best. So, Thursday or Sunday?”

Leonard’s answer comes slowly, accompanied by a hesitant look. “I suppose Thursday. What, ah, time....?”

“Seven o’clock,” Vanessa says. She resists the urge to glance towards the stairs. She remembers Carolina’s expression when she saw her father in the living room, the way Church and Leonard glared at each other, and suspects that first dinner is going to be interesting, to say the least.

“Very well.” Leonard steps back, smoothing a hand down his sleeve. “Well, before you summoned me, I was in the middle of a discussion, so if you’ll excuse me--”

“Oh, keep me updated about Mr. Simmons,” Grey says. There’s no sarcasm in her voice now. She sighs, her expression wistful. “I’m sure it’s going to be _fascinating_. I can’t wait to hear what his limits are!”

Vanessa frowns. She glances between Grey and Leonard. “Try not to kill him,” she says dryly.

**Author's Note:**

> No Honorable or Dishonorable Mentions this time! We didn't want to spoil you for anything that happens this season. Just trust us, it's going to be great.


End file.
